Somewhere In Brooklyn
by Whenrabbitsattack2-0
Summary: Fionna is a 3rd year college student studying at LIU with her best friend, Cali-Kealani (Cake for short.) One month ago, she met an intriguing bass player while waiting in the subway, and he's been on her mind ever since. But New York is a big city, and she doesn't even know his name. Will they ever meet again? [AU Fiolee inspired by song of the same name. T for sexual references]
1. Chapter 1- Skipping School

I rolled over and blinked sleepily, hearing the sound of knocking on my bedroom door. For a second I was kinda confused that I could only see out of one eye, but then I realised my light green sheet was caught on the top of one of my bunny ears and it was blocking my right eye. Dammit, I'd fallen asleep gaming again. Adventures of Aaron Allfight ( or AAA, if you're in the know) was just the best. And my bunny ear headphones, while not only being awesome in an adorable way, were an indispensable tool in defeating the Lich king and his undead army with my sword-toting hero. Too bad it didn't have a girl avatar.  
' Yeah, I'm awake, stop banging on the door.' I yelled weakly when the knocking restarted, in a more impatient beat.  
' Fionna, it's like, ten thirty. We going out today or what?' I rolled out of bed and stumbled over to the door, tugging on a fluffy red sweatshirt I found on the floor next to my bed. Cake doesn't care if I walk around the apartment in my underwear (God knows she does) But I care. Besides, my greying frayed bra was a little grungy, and not in the cool way. Oh, to be a low-paid geeky college student.  
' Cake I have a lecture at eleven forty-five. If I wanna be on time and look mildly human, I gotta just get dressed then go.' I complained as I opened the door, then shrieked and pulled it almost closed again when I realised Cake's boyfriend was watching our exchange from our kitchen with a mild smirk on his face. He's latino, and he always talks to Cake in Spanish, so I never know what they're saying to each other. His name is Mauricio, But Cake calls him 'Lord' for some reason I probably don't want to know, and he calls her something in Spanish which I will never repeat for the same reason.  
Cake rolled her eyes at me impatiently, her fluffy leopard-esque dyed hair falling jauntily over one eye. She's been my best friend ever since her family moved in next to mine back when I lived in Queens, and then when we both got accepted into LIU we managed to find a cheap apartment to rent in Willamsburg above a pizzareia. When we're walking around together, she's the one that people look at. This curvy, sassy-looking woman with chocolate coloured skin and a permanently pouty mouth in a short leather skirt with thick gold bangles. I love her to pieces.

' Ugh, you can call me Cake when Lord's not around but please. I like the nickname he's come up with, If he starts calling me Cake too I will be so pissed.' I sighed at her and rolled my eyes, opening the door again properly as Mauricio lost interest in what we were doing and started poking around in our refrigerator.  
' Hey, Cali-kealani is an awesome name, and if you won't let me call you that, at least let me have my Cake. Though don't be all Marie-Antoinette bitchy about it.' Cake flicked her hair and tried to be annoyed, but I saw the tiny little smile curving up the corners of her ridiculously sensual mouth. I've called her Cake ever since she told me her real name back when we were kids. She's so multicultural I won't even try to trace where Cali-kealani comes from, but all I know is her parents met in Hawaii.

' Fine, you little weirdo.' She said, tugging on my bunny ear and making my hair even more messy. ' You know, if it weren't for the bunny headphones, the way you look right now I would ask where you're hiding him.' I blinked at her, still not fully awake enough to comprehend the significance of this comment.  
'Wha?' Cake smirked at me, folding her arms and flicking her hair. Always flicking her god-damned perfect hair. Mine is completely uncontrollable. As soon as I think I've got it half-way decent, it's guaranteed to start raining and then it just turns into a frizzy blonde bomb.  
' You're wearing nothing but a too-large jumper and undies and you have just-fucked hair. Seriously Fi, when you gonna find yourself a boyfriend?' I blushed and stuck my tongue out at her.  
' When I find a guy that likes AAA and frizzy hair and impulsive, overly-curious nutcases then you'll be the first to know.' I huffed at her, before Mauricio said something , grinning at Cake and jerking his head towards me. Cake frowned at him and snapped her fingers then pointed at herself, obviously taking offence to what he had said. Mauricio raised his hands in surrender and laughingly conceeded (by the sounds of it), then Cake rolled her eyes at him and gave him the finger.

' What was that all about?'  
'Mauricio basically said he'd do you, then I said bitch, I'm you girlfriend, and he said yeah, that only means I think you're hotter than her, doesn't mean I wouldn't still do her.' I blushed and looked at Mauricio, who was busy chugging milk straight from the carton. I would say gross, but I do that too, which was the only reason it was gross.  
' Uh... Thanks, I guess? Whatever, I'm gonna have a shower, screw the lecture. Is Mauricio gonna hang with us today?'  
' Nah, he's gotta go be assistant to old Gumball again.' Gumball was the nickname we had for one of the professors at LIU. He was this german guy called Professor Kugel, (which apparently means ball) and he had a serious addiction to bubblegum. Mauricio worked as his assistant sometimes for extra credit, and apparently he has a massive bubblegum stash in one of his filing cabinets, plus he chews during lectures. He isn't actually that old (He has a bubble gum pink-what else- streak in his hair, which is kinda crazy scientist-ish) but he's so eccentric and old fashioned he seems old. Truth be told, I used to think he was kinda hot, but I'm over it. Teacher-student has always been and will always be a big no-no.  
'Oh, okay. See ya, Mauricio.' I waved to him after I had picked up a towel and wrapped it around my hips, walking off towards our bathroom. Cake would probably've kicked him out by the time I was done, seeing as I always spent about half an hour in the shower. Mauricio waved back then beckoned Cake over to him, and I quickly withdrew into the bathroom before I had to witness them making out.  
Kissing is not a spectator sport, though I can't say I've had much experience. I've only ever been out with one guy, and he burned me pretty bad, so needless to say I'm a little reluctant to get back into the dating scene. Plus there aren't many guys I'm into that I've met. Well, there was one I met about a month ago when I was waiting for a train, but I never got his name and the chances of meeting him again aren't really that high. I always go to that particular subway station whenever I can though. And my heart always rises while I'm going down the stairs then sinks back down when I see he isn't there. Ha, that sounds like a song.

When I had finally managed to wash and dry all my hair ( I have a bet with Cake that I can't grow it to my knees before I'm twenty five. It goes past my butt now, so I reckon I've got a good chance of winning. Bloody hard to take care of though.) I walked out of the bathroom and found Cake picking at a chocolate muffin at the kitchen table. She had a blueberry muffin on the table in front of her along with a coffee that wafted it's deliciously hazelnutty scent into my nose and seduced my senses.  
' You got coffee?' I said, picking up the hazelnut coffee and inhaling deeply. God, I love the stuff. It's so perfect.  
' Yeah, I walked down with Lord and I figured why not?' She half-smiled at me as I downed about half the cup in one go, zinging with the caffeine and the bittersweet flavour.  
' Woah, slow down or bunny's gonna be jumping all over the place.' I looked at her side ways as I stopped chugging the coffee to take a breath, half-groaning half-growling with my deep sense of gratification. It was just what I wanted right then, y'know?  
'Hey, if I have hazelnut coffee in my life, why would I need a boyfriend?' I replied before sticking my nose back in it. Cake laughed.  
' Um, last time I checked hazelnut coffee wasn't that great in bed.' I rolled my eyes as I swallowed. Trust her to think immediately about one of the lesser qualities in a healthy relationship. I'm mean sure, you need good sex or you'll never last the distance, but I thought perhaps the fact that hazelnut coffee probably doesn't love me back was a more important factor.  
' Uhhhhh, more Hazel! More!' I moaned, before chugging the rest of the coffee and slamming the cup down on the counter. Cake dissolved into a fit of giggles while I sighed in satisfaction. Coffee good. Coffee what Fionna needed.  
' You are such a loony. And you finished that in like, two minutes. That can't be good for you.'  
' I beg to differ. It's very good for me.' I said, trotting over to my bedroom to get dressed. I heard the tinny little Goodwill TV we kept on the kitchen counter crackle into life and knew that Cake had rolled her eyes at me then picked up the remote.

I was standing in my bra and undies and white thigh socks with the scalloped edge before I suddenly realised I still had no clue what we were doing today, so I poked my head out the door.  
'Hey, Cake?' Cake had her eyes firmly fixed to the television, now intently munching her muffin as she watched.  
' Mmm?'  
' What are we gonna do today?' She shrugged, glancing at me and taking a drink from her own coffee as her show went onto ad break.  
' Dunno. We could go window-shopping, or down to the botanical gardens. That place is math.' Me and Cake have this weird habit of trying to make things we don't like better by turning them into positive adjectives. So math is the equivalent of cool, algebraic the equivalent of brilliant and we've never discovered anything that deserves to be decribed as calculus.  
' So basically we're just gonna mooch around Brooklyn for the day.'  
' Yeah. Hey, I'll check the news, see if there's any stuff going on today. Pass the laptop.' I ducked back into my bedroom and disconnected the laptop from my gaming hub. I saved up heaps and bought two surround vision monitors and a ergonomic keypad and everything. Not to mention my bunny headphones. Those are my signature item, I wear them everywhere.  
' Here.' I said, leaning out the door and passing it to her. Cake grabbed it and set it on the table, grunting in thanks as she now had the blueberry muffin in her mouth. I guessed that was supposed to be mine, but I didn't really care. I'll get a crepe from the stall down the road once we've left the apartment to go on whatever spectacular adventure is waiting for us today.

**Author's note: This is my first AU, inspired by the song 'Somewhere in Brooklyn' by Bruno Mars.** ** Review if you're into it or you have questions about the differences in this world, though I think I've talked about all the major ones. You won't believe how much research I did on Brooklyn before finally deciding where they lived and all that stuff, it was exhausting.  
I'm going to alternate chapters, present in Fionna's and past in Marshall****'s.  
Ugh, I need to stop writing new stories. I have other shit I need to finish first, like WTF. Sorry for everyone who's waiting on updates! D:**

**-WRA**


	2. Chapter 2- Don't Believe In Coincidence

Jesus Christ, I'd had a long day. Fucking manager never manages to find me any decent gigs, ironically enough. And it had started raining when I was walking back from the pub, so I decided to call it quits and run to the nearest subway with my guitar case acting as an impromptu umbrella.  
I mean, I wouldn't of cared if I'd got payed a decent amount, or if the bar had had more than fifteen fucking customers who were all fat old alcoholics who would've liked me better if I'd had a nice set of tits to display. But all she could find for me in the whole of New York City, the city where dreams are fucking made, were these crappy little pub nights that payed less than the taxi fairs to get to them. I swear to god, I'm gonna fire that bitch and just start busking again. I would be making about the same amount and I'd have more of chance of getting picked up by one of the big companies.

I collapsed onto a bench in the subway and leaned back against the wall, sighing through my nose. New York was proving to be a tough place to crack. I mean, it was still a heck of a lot better than the hell on earth I'd come from. New Jersey. Yeah, I'm from Jersey and even I hate it. At least I don't have that bloody accent though, thanks to the fact that my mom, being the jet-setting power-hungry business woman she is, never really let me settle down when I was a kid. And she wonders why I'm such a stereotypically reclusive musician.  
She thinks I'll never make it in the music business and I should just inherit the family company from her ( My mom, Lucy Abadeer, works in buying and selling animal pelts, among other things. Lucy's fur is her brand name) But I'll show her.  
I've got the goods, I know that, now I just need someone to pay me some fucking attention in this town. I reckon that was the problem with the New York dream. Some many people believed in it, that they overcrowded it and made it incredibly hard for anyone to get their hands on it, least of all a struggling, tragically attractive young indie-rock soloist like me.

I did have a band a couple years ago and we had moderate success in state, but it petered out after our keyboardist and lead guitarist (They'd been dating for a while) broke up and refused to play with each other anymore. In more ways than one. Heh.  
The next train wasn't for another ten minutes, so I figured I should probably make myself comfortable. Maybe call my manager and fire her lazy ass. I bet you she just pulled every gig right out of her saggy butt, not even trying to find me any of the good stuff. Probably gave it to some pliable teenager who she could coerce into having sex with her in exchange for the best joints. I opened up the pocket on the outside of my guitar case and pulled out some papers and a pen. Whenever I'm really pissed, just writing normally helps. About anything and everything, lyrics usually aren't concrete. You just gotta take what comes, bulldoze all the stupid stuff and cement the genius.  
But I sat there for a while with the top of the pen pressed against my bottom lip, staring at the page as I scuffed my red hightops on the concrete. No words were coming. I just couldn't find my flow, the rhythm that normally came naturally.

I sighed and started doodling a little bat absentmindedly in the corner of the paper. I needed a muse. The only girl I'd dated since I'd got here had sold off a teddy bear that my dad had given me before he disappeared to a pawn shop to buy weed. I hadn't known she was a stoner, which was a deal breaker anyway ( I'm not getting into that shit. Besides, smoker's mouths taste gross when they've been blazing.) but then she goes and takes my stuff because she doesn't have anything worth something which she could go sell? She'd inspired a pretty awesome bluesy tune about the girl who smoked my teddy bear, and I bought it back from the shop after a good gig.(For sentimental reasons. Don't question a man's attachment to his soft toys and he won't question your attachment to your weird childhood kink.)  
But that was all I'd gotten from that relationship. You can only sing about being on your own for so long before you get all suicidal and want to jump off a bridge, plus the audience gets bored with listening to sadness. They wanna hear Romeo-and-Juilet shit, or break up and new love songs. A guy on his own with a custom bass isn't that interesting. A guy with a troubled love life and a custom bass, now that sells records.  
But all the girls in this city were ambitious power-hungry bitches like my Devil-Wears-Prada-esque mother. I wish there was someone out there who didn't look at me and wonder whether I could be her stepping stone as well as her boyfriend. I mean, even just as a friend. I'm pretty much alone out here, and I don't really mind that much. Y'know, lone wolf and all that shit. I don't need a bed warmer. But just someone who wasn't caught up in the bright lights and big city would be nice.

Some chick had come and sat down next to me on the bench while I was drawing but I hadn't payed any attention to it. At least until she started drumming on her legs, one of her feet tapping on the ground. I glanced up at her then did a double take and looked her up and down. She had black Nike sneakers, and long white socks on with scalloped edges, which kind of reminded me of a high-end hooker for some reason (In the best possible way, I'm not saying she looked like a call girl). They had that edge of sexiness to them, which was enhanced by her studded leather jacket. Underneath said jacket, she had this weird little two-tone denim dress, which actually showed off a decent rack quite nicely. She was tapping with one hand on a green satchel, but the really distinguishing traits were her headphones and her hair.  
Her hair was fucking long, like she was literally sitting on it even though she had tied it into a ponytail and it was this big bouncy mess of blonde curls 'cause of the rain I was guessing. Then her headphones had a material cover on top of them, like a head band, and this adorable pair of bunny ears sticking out of the top. One of them had a gold ring pierced through it.  
She was actually hot, in a weird punkass-geek kinda way. Good figure, pretty face and soft red lips, which were moving silently as she mouthed the words of whatever she was listening to.

Her song finished a few seconds later and she noticed me looking at her. She flashed me a quick polite smile then I saw her eyes shift and lock onto the doodle of the bat I had drawn. She cocked her head slightly to the side and shifted her headphones back off of one ear a little.

' Hey, that's a cute drawing. You're pretty good.' She said, looking back up at me and smiling again. Her voice was a little rougher than I had expected it to be, about medium tone with an almost raspy quality, and the vowels less nasal than most americans speak. You might ask how I even know that, and the simple answer is I traveled a lot. I've heard almost every accent under the sun.  
' Thanks. I was just doodling though, drawing isn't really my strong point.' She nodded towards my guitar case.  
' Is music?' I raised my eyebrows in consent and she turned slightly in her seat so she was half facing me, pulling her headphones down around her neck. It was odd to find that she actually looked weird without the bunny ears. They almost seemed to complete her, like without them she was the Mona Lisa with no smile or ACDC without Angus Young.

' What do you play? What genre I mean, that case isn't for a flute.' She said, quirking an eyebrow at her last comment. I laughed genuinely because of the expression on her face. It was such an unmalicious sense of sarcasm. Refreshing, considering I can have a tongue sharper than razor blades (And smoother than butter, if you know what I mean) when I want to.  
'Rock mostly, but all kinds. I don't specify my sound.' She nodded at me, looking like she understood what I meant. She opened her mouth again, like she was gonna ask me something else, but just before she could my phone rang in my pocket.

I threw her an apologetic look.  
' Sorry, I have to take this. Might be my sonofabitch manager.' She laughed once and hooked her headphones back onto her ears, pulling her iPod out of one of the jacket pockets and flicking through the songs list. She looked at me one more time as I answered the call, before focusing back on her music with a small smile curving up those cherry-red kissable lips.  
Jeez, she was actually really hot. I may have found my muse. While waiting for a subway train that I wasn't even planning to catch. What are the odds that while I'm thinking about how I wish there was a girl who wasn't brimming with ulterior motive, the only one in New York City happens to sit down beside me?  
I swear to god, if she was listening to rock, then I was in love. Or at least, I could be. She wasn't the best-looking girl I'd seen in New York (Though definitely top half of the top ten) but she was the most unusual without seeming batshit crazy. There's a fine line between attractively different, and off-puttingly weird. Most people are the latter (including me, I have a thing for gothic stuff) and that's fine, but you shouldn't shove it all up in someone's face when you've just met. Let me figure out your issues later on when I'll find them mildly cute instead of awkward and odd.  
Life works in mysterious ways, and I wasn't gonna get ahead of myself. But she was different. After all, I'd never seen bunny ear headphones before. She didn't look like she was caught up in the New York dream, and maybe she could help set me free.  
Also, turns out it was my manager on the phone.

' Hey Marshall-lee, how'd the gig go? You blow the roof off the place?' I rolled my eyes. This lady was so eighties, and not in the cool way.  
' There was barely even a place to blow the roof off. Stop giving me shit, don't think I don't know you can do better than this.' Marceline ( that's her name. I know, right) sighed and started whining.  
' Marshall, honey, don't be like that. Seriously, all my best joints were booked out.'  
' Nah, see here's the thing, Marcy. I was actually earning more busking outside this damn train station then I've been getting playing your crap gigs. I'm going back to being self-owned, I don't need you.'  
' Marshall, Let's talk about this! Look, I know the pub was a screw-over, but-' I had already made up my mind. Besides, this chick was kind of a loser. She always lost her 'prodigies' once they started getting good because they found themselves a better deal. That didn't charge so much for giving you a pile of polished crap.  
' Save it for your next victim, Marcy. Bleed them dry.' I snarked then hung up the phone, feeling a weird sense of independence mixed with hopelessness. Yeah, I could make a living off of busking, but it was hardly a career. I didn't want to spend my life living off of spare change thrown into a guitar case.

But on to more immediate matters. The girl who had come and sat next to me had plugged back into her music, her head nodding slightly to the beat as she sung along in silence. It looked a little eerie and would've been kinda creepy if it weren't for the fact that she had this air of innocence that made her seem like a Highschooler. Like she had no clue how she looked, and she didn't really care either way. Little Miss Innocent.  
How could I get her talking again?

**Author's note: So yeah, now you know that characters from both universes are gonna show up. But most of them will only be mentions or cameos, apart from the hero who is important because I feel obligated to make him so. I really hope you're all picking up on the little word plays I've scattered around here, because some of them I'm actually quite proud of. For example, try saying 'Lucy's fur' out loud really fast. ;D  
There will only be three flashback chapters and them Marshall's parts will come back into the present again.****  
And believe it or not, I've actually already written most of this so I'll update as fast as I can edit. No waiting around, Woohoo!**

** -WRA**


	3. Chapter 3- Fancy Seeing You Here

' Hey Cake?'  
' Mm?'  
' I have no clean jumpers left.' I said, twisting my mouth to the side as I walked out into the lounge. I had put on my denim short-shorts and a light blue singlet with my black slip-ons.  
' Borrow my leather jacket again then.'  
' Nah, can I have your yellow cardi? Y'know the one with the really cool textured thingy going on.' Cake rolled her eyes at my obvious inexperience with textiles.  
' It's called knotted weave, and I guess so. Won't that be too big for you? It's massive on me, which is why I never wear it.' I went and managed to find the cardigan in question in the rubble of clothes, make-up and musky sheets (Ew) that was Cake's bedroom. At least the jumper didn't smell like sex.  
The sleeves were a little long and the hem of the cardigan was pretty much equal to the bottom of my short-shorts but I didn't really mind. I liked it.  
' Nah, it's all good. I like big floppy sweaters.' Cake wiggled her eyebrows at me.  
' And I like big, non-floppy-'  
' SHUT UP! shut up now, I don't need to hear how Mauricio is hung like a horse.' Cake laughed at me as I glared at her, loosely tugging my hair back into a low ponytail. It was humid as hell right now, and it was gonna turn into a curly mess whatever I did, so might as well not try too hard.

' Alright fine, I leave my boyfriend's generous proportions to your imagination. And hey, come and look at this video I found.' I slung my headphone around my neck then walked into the kitchen, picking up the remote and turning off the TV as I did so. Cake clicked the play button and together we watched a slightly blurry video of a guy with a red custom-made bass guitar shaped like an axe play a song. The video wasn't very high quality, but the music this guy was making was. It was excellent, just the kinda stuff I like to listen to. He seemed vaguely familiar somehow, but seeing as I couldn't make out anything much past a shock of messy black hair and what looked like a plaid shirt under a leather jacket, I dismissed the feeling.  
' That's cool, but what about it?' Cake scrolled down to the description.  
' Apparently, he's something of an urban legend. They call him the Brooklyn Busker, and he's only appeared in about the last month or so, but he's already pretty famous. Seems he pops up in random spots around Brooklyn and performs, then he's just gone. There's no obvious pattern to where he turns up apart from the fact that he's always around Brooklyn and he's performed like, five times outside the subway station on twenty-first street.' I raised my eyebrow at her, starting to get interested.  
' Okay..?'  
' I reckon we should try to find him. See if we can catch him live. 'Cause you have to admit, he ain't half bad. And I'm talking 'bout his music, before you accuse me of anything.' I laughed at her and slapped her shoulder.  
' I wasn't going to, 'cause I'm not you. You're ga-ga for Mauricio, so I wouldn't even think that.' Cake stuck her tongue out at me, a slightly pink flush appearing underneath her brown skin, then looked back at the video, which had about three million hits.  
' So what dy'a reckon? Sound like fun? We can window shop while we look too.' I picked up my green satchel, which had my wallet and pocket knife, among other things, inside it.  
' Yeah, okay. Sounds good. And since you ate my muffin, wanna get some crepes first? Cake looked guiltily at the two muffin wrappers on the table then nodded. She disappeared into her room and reappeared with a small black back pack and a pair of black suede ankle boots with vicious looking studs up the heel.  
' Yeah. let's go, baby.'

'So where d'ya reckon we start looking then?' I said while the crepe maker spread the batter over the sizzling hotplate, the mixture turning from a pasty beige to delicious golden-brown.  
' Well, I think we should check the twenty-first subway 'cause he's been there more than once, then figure it out from there.' I nodded at her, then something suddenly clicked. Twenty first street.  
' Hey Cake, y'know that's where I met that guy I told you about. The Indie-rock dude who was drawing bats.' Cake frowned at me in confusion for a second, then her eyes lit up and she grabbed my arm.  
' Oh my god, you think your guy might be there again? You have to show me him, you said he was really cute in a tall, dark and floppy-haired kinda way.' I blushed and shook my head.  
' Nah, I haven't seen him there since so probably not. I just remembered that that was the station where I met him. Thanks.' I said to the crepe guy, taking my strawberry choco-nut crepe and handing Cake her caramel-cream one. We ate them as we started walking towards the nearest subway station.  
We caught the train down to twenty first, but when we got up to street level, everything was typical for a summer day in NYC. People walking down the street with their dogs or guys in suits looking like they were talking to themselves when they took phone calls through their bluetooth headsets. Cars and taxis flowing down the street. Noise and movement everywhere.  
I've always lived in the city so it wasn't that strange for me, but I do sometimes get kinda sick of all the people and purpose. Everyone's always got somewhere to go or be. I wonder how many other people ever wake up without a three week plan for the future. Cake and I, we live on a day by day basis. We see what we wanna see and go where we wanna go. I feel like it's a much better way to live the constantly working towards a goal. Having a smaller purpose makes it so much easier to fulfill, and then you're less likely to feel like a failure.

' Well, he's obviously not here. You wanna take the bus back and just walk around?' I said. Cake twisted her mouth to the side, for some reason disagreeing with this perfectly reasonable suggestion.  
' Why not start walking around here?'  
' He's called the Brooklyn Busker, not the Long Island Busker.' Cake knew that I was right, but she hated being wrong, so she struggled mentally for a moment before she sighed, giving up.  
' Yeah, okay. You know there's a chance we might not even find him.' I grinned at her, adjusting the strap on my satchel.  
' And there's also a chance he'll be right there when we get off so let's go! C'mon!' Cake grinned at me and laughed, ruffling my hair and making me growl at her in annoyance.  
' You're such a class act. Okay Fionna Mertens, you've got me convinced we'll find the elusive Busker of Brooklyn.' She linked her arm through mine and we walked off down the street tot he bus stop.

We spent a good long time just wandering through Brooklyn, finding random little op-shops and doing stupid junk just because we could. It was nice to just do whatever we wanted together, as best friends again. I have no problem with Mauricio (If I did, I'd be in a tough spot) but I didn't really like being their third wheel. And when I had been with Tiro, he always wanted me all to himself. I never complained, he was smoking hot. But he got bored with me. The flames of passion burnt out pretty quick with that guy.  
It just felt like I had missed out on our bro time when we had been so busy with school and boys. Ditching the stupid lecture (I can't even remember what it was for. So it must not have been important) had been a good call on my part. Getting to just hang out with my sister from another mister was so relaxing.  
And then Cake spotted him.

' Fionna! Oh my god, I think that's him!' I had been distracted by a poster of my favourite band in the window of a music shop, advertising that they'd be playing in Madison square soon. God, I would've loved to get tickets. But I probably couldn't afford them.  
Cake was down the other end of the street, and she was gesturing towards a small crowd of people gathered around something which was hidden from my view by the corner of a building. I jogged up to her and looked past the small group to a man with messy black hair and a custom-made red bass guitar shaped like an axe. He was taking applause for a song we had evidently just missed when we got there. Cake started towards him, then looked back at me in confusion when she realised I hadn't followed her. I was rooted to the spot as I looked at the guy who was standing on the corner of some park, a glaringly familiar guitar case at his feet and an even more familiar leather jacket hanging off of the open lid.

' Fionna?' Cake questioned with a slight edge of worry in her voice, turning back to look at me. I have no idea what my expression would've been at that point. Because I'd honestly never expected to see this guy again. He had been charming, in a sarcastic, egotistical way. But he'd never given me his name, and I don't know if he'd managed to figure out mine. I thought maybe he wasn't that interested in me, seeing as I'm just this weird frizzy haired girl. I'm hardly the catch of the it wasn't like I could've gotten off the train to give him my name.  
And yet there he was, same five o'clock shadow on his jaw and Tony Stark-esque goatee, same wallet chain on a different pair of ripped skinny jeans, same long graceful stance and casual half-smile that said " Hide your daughter before I've got her in my bed."  
' Cake, that's him. My indie-rocker from the subway.'

**Author's note: Can I get a 'predictable!' up in here? Eh, This story was never meant to be genius, it's just supposed to be a nice little ball of fluff. Review please! (Review whoring shamelessly since 1985)  
Replies to Guest Reviews:  
**

13pandas chapter 2 . May 20

love story cant wait for the next up-date. Want to suggest a song "somewhere only we know" by Keane. Came across it while looking for the Brooklyn song and thought it went nicely with fiolee stuff

Questionable chapter 2 . May 20

So cute and I absolutely love how you have two chapters posted at once and the different pov's please continue with this story :

Guest chapter 1 . May 20

I like your story it is awesome from girl you better mension me or I will leave bad reviews your story needs something luv ya

**13pandas: I'll check it out, but I'm in the middle of several fics at the moment so I won't make any promises. I'm glad you like it! :3  
Questionable: Well duh, of course I'm continuing with it. I will finish every story I put up here. In consistent and reasonable amounts of time,no promises though ;P  
Guest: There, you have been mentioned. What do you mean it needs something? But I love you too ;* lol  
**


	4. Chapter 4- Intangible Difference

'What're you listening to?' I asked her after I'd casually waved my hand in front of her face, letting her know I wanted to keep talking to her. ' Cause I did. It wasn't the smoothest pick up line, but anything more obvious would make me look like a creepy desperate guy who hits on girls in the subway constantly. There aren't many boundaries on where it's okay to aim at a pretty little target, but you don't wanna look like a perv while you're lining up the shot.  
' Oh, um 'Scotty doesn't know.' By Lustra. My best friend was always disappointed I never had a boyfriend named Scotty.' I laughed.  
' Hey, I'd still love to be your Donny if you wanna be Fiona.' She rolled her eyes and shook her head, a small grin telling me she knew I wasn't serious. Which I wasn't. Kind of.  
' So was that your, what did you say... sonofabitch manager calling?' She asked. I nodded, clasping my hands together and leaning forward. My ex manager. A weirdly bittersweet thought. I didn't have any buffers anymore. I was going to have to make my own success, and I knew I could, but it was gonna be hard. Sigh.  
' Well, The Con-artist Formerly Known As My Manager. She was a lazy bitch, I'm not mourning my losses.' She nodded and then twisted her mouth slightly to the side. Jesus, her mouth. I couldn't stop staring at it. Was she wearing lipstick or did it just naturally look that good? Maybe it's Maybelline. Wait, what? She had said something and she was waiting for me to talk again. Rookie mistake, man. Damn.  
' Uh, what sorry?'  
' What're you gonna do without a manager? No offense if I'm wrong, but you must still be trying to make it big if you're having to catch the subway after a show.' I sniffed at her pretentiously, making a big show of being highly annoyed by her comment.  
' I do take offense to that. Maybe I'm just one of those earthy, leftist indie rockers who want to save the environment.' I kept up the pretense for a few more seconds then slumped back down, shaking my head.  
' Nah, I'm kidding. Yeah that's me, just another one of New York's unemployed masses trying to follow their dreams.'  
' Are you earning money following your dream?' She said seriously, shrugging her bunny headphone back down around her neck. I almost wanted to reach over and put them back on. Like I said, they completed her.  
' Uh, yeah?'  
' Then you're not unemployed, you're self-employed. Know the difference, it'll look good on your CV.' I smirked, shaking my head. This girl was so awesomely weird. The way she delivered her little one-liners was just slightly off, almost like they were unintentional but the look in her eyes gave the game away.  
' Well, what about you? What dream is little Bunny trying to follow down the rabbit hole?' I said, taking a chance and reaching across, tugging on one of the ears of her bunny headphones. She didn't cringe away, which was a good sign. And in fact I noticed she blushed slightly, her cheeks turning pink underneath the fluorescent subway lightening. It wasn't the most flattering on anyone's skin, and I probably looked like a vampire right now, but she didn't look terrible. Besides, I wasn't really paying attention to her skin, because I kept getting distracted by her fucking lips. God, I'm so hopeless.  
' I'm studying at LIU. Majoring in History.' She said, suddenly unable to look me in the face. Was she really that shy because I had touched her? Either I was ridiculously hot ( which I am, but I mean to her) Or she really was little Miss Innocent. Cute.  
' Oh yeah? What year are you in?'  
' Third. I've gotten used to the grind.' So that meant, unless she had been held back (which seemed unlikely) or she was a brain child (which was possible, but she didn't seem like an academic) she was twenty one. She had the kind of face that you knew was young, but exactly how young it was hard to tell. I wonder whether she'd still be interested in me, seeing as that meant she was older than me. I'm nineteen. And that was if she was interested at all even now.  
' Huh. I dropped out of community when I realised the teachers couldn't tell me anything I didn't already know.' She raised an eyebrow at me skeptically. So she obviously still had faith in the American education system. I wasn't sure if that made me cynical or her naive. Maybe it was both.  
' Yeah? Well, now you're in New York and you have enough confidence in your own abilities to fire your manager, so you must have done something right.' I laughed. It was good to see she wasn't one of those pretentious prats who form their opinions on someone based on their GPA. Of which mine actually wasn't that bad, thank you very much. Dropping out was the choice I made to pursue music, a degree wasn't gonna be any use to me when I'm busy record-making and heart-breaking.  
' So are you funded by your parents or has Bunny got a job?' Seeing as she hadn't told me her name and it felt weird to ask, I decided right then and there that my nickname for her would be Bunny. Maybe I could get her to tell me her name by telling her mine. No, that was too obvious. I was kinda hoping that at some point she'd just take a leaf from the stack of papers I'd put on top of my guitar case and just write down her name and number, but I rarely ever get that lucky.  
She hesitated for a second before answering my question, frowning slightly. Hold up. Did she have issues with her parents? Wow, do I know that feel.

' I uh.. I've actually been in a foster home for pretty much my whole life. And they were good to me, but they were never really my parents. I called them by their first names. I've never met my real mum and dad because apparently she left me on the doorstep of the care home with nothing but a blanket and a note with my name. I've looked it up a couple of times but as far as I can tell I just kind of appeared. There's no paper trail.' I raised my eyebrows and leaned back against the wall. She kind of froze up, then I popped my lips once.  
' That's heavy.' She didn't react, beyond touching her mouth, like she couldn't believe she had just said that. I hadn't meant to make her feel weird.

' Hey, are you okay?' I asked her a few seconds later, because she still hadn't moved at all. She seemed to come out of her trance and then looked back at me, smiling again and laughing at herself. Though the sound was hollow and her smile looked dead. Something was off now. Dammit.  
' Yeah, I'm fine, I just... I've never told anyone that. Not even my best friend, and she's known me for more than a decade. She knew they were my foster parents, but she doesn't know that I have no clue where I came from.'  
Shit had just got real. Before it had just been joking banter, now I knew something about this girl that no-one else knew, yet I still didn't know her fucking name. I needed to make her feel comfortable again, or she'd never want to see me again. By this point, I liked her, and If she had said 'Hey, wanna go get coffee.' I would've jumped at the chance.  
' Well, people say I have that kinda of effect. All day, every day, they just come and tell me all their deepest and darkest secrets. I've been scarred for life.' I said, clutching at my heart dramatically and sighing like I had a burden greater than atlas. She laughed, and this time it sounded genuine. She had a cute laugh. Not that annoying reedy sound some girls have, but lower and more airy.

' Must make for pretty good material though. You could write all these songs about other people's issues and take credit for it.'  
' Won't everyone think I'm just a whiny nutcase then?' She held up one finger, throwing me a look that reminded me of a condescending teacher. I half-thought she was about to tell me to stand in the corner.  
' That's not what I meant. I meant that they could inspire you to write songs about if you had experienced their problems from your point of view.' I was about to give her some smart-aleck answer, but I stopped to think for a second. That wasn't actually a bad idea. I could relate to her on the parental issues one, although I had known both my parents, though me and my mom are more acquaintances than family. She's a stone cold bitch, frankly. Maybe that's where I get it from.  
Just then a train rolled into the station, and the various people around us started picking up their bags and things and making their way towards it. I hadn't realised she was following suit (Literally, there were all these dudes in suits everywhere.) until she had already stood off and was dusting off her ass. I couldn't resist a quick look.  
White girl got booty.  
I know that sounds racist, but you have to admit that there are more curvy black women than white. Most good-looking white chicks are sort of model-esque, and that's alright if you're into that, but I like my woman to have a little more substance. Though I'm no chubby chaser. Her silhouette from the side looked like a coke bottle. The plastic ones, not the glass. In and out in a way that looked like it would feel real good in your hands. _Yeah_.  
' Well, it was good talking to you. See ya.' She said, fluttering her fingers at me before she put her bunny headphones back on. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was thinking about the information she had revealed before. My mind was still on the idea she had given me, about putting myself into other people's experiences and seeing how I'd react. That would be an endless source of inspiration. I wouldn't need a muse.  
Still be nice to have one.

By the time I'd managed to pull myself out of my head she was already walking away, one hand going into her jacket pocket to pull out her silver iPod. I still didn't know her name, and I wanted to see her again. She was different, I don't know how to explain it. In the entire time she had been talking to me, I'd never once got the feeling she was sizing me up or measuring me in any tangible way. She listened to what I said, and she believed in it.  
That was rare in a place like this.  
' Wait, what's your name?' I called after her, half jumping out of my seat and raising one of my hands in her direction. I probably looked like the shattered love interest in a B-grade romcom, but whatever.  
She didn't hear me. She got on the train, which was actually pretty full and grabbed one of the poles by the door with one hand, flicking through her songs list with the other. After she clicked one she looked up and saw me, giving a little wave.  
I was not gonna lose the only decent person in New York city because I had been too much of a pussy to ask her her name until she was walking away. I grabbed one of the sheets of paper off of my guitar case and pulled a pencil out of my pocket (My mother instilled that habit of keeping a writing implement on my person at all times. That moment is the only moment when I have ever felt any gratitude towards her for being who she is.) I quickly scribbled ' You never told me your name?' On the sheet and held it up for her to see as the doors slid closed. Her eyes opened slightly wider as she read it and then she mouthed something at me and pointed at her iPod. All I could get from what those perfectly formed, insanely tempting lips of her had shaped was that it started with either an F or a V. Victoria? No, that didn't suit her at all. Finley? No, that wasn't right either. Godammit!  
Then the train departed and she was gone.

**Author's note: Why are Marshall's chapters always longer than Fionna's? Maybe I'm playing favourites. I know you're gonna review, so why don't you just go ahead and do it..**


	5. Chapter 5-Them New York Blues

Cake looked back at me, her eyes popping slightly wider and her jaw falling in a way I would've laughed at if I wasn't busy being shocked.  
' Are you serious?' That's your guy?' I nodded at her, torn between wanting to run away and wanting to walk right up to him. Because if he remembered me and he wanted to y'know, hang out or something, that would be algebraic. But if he had forgotten me, that would suck. Because I hadn't forgotten him.  
I mean, I'd talked to him about my parents. I don't talk to anyone about my parents, not even Cake. She knows I don't want to get into it, because if I think about it too much I get all soul-searchy and weird. But I had just blurted it out to a complete stranger. Because he had sounded like he wanted to talk to me, and was into rock. I reckon a person's taste in music is a really good reflection of their personality. If you click with someone's taste in music, chances are you'll click with them in other ways too.  
Besides, he had asked for my name. He wouldn't have done that if he hadn't wanted to see me again. But if he did that all the time, and I was just some random weird girl with parental issues and bunny headphones that he couldn't bother remembering, that would be absolutely gutting. Because I had liked him. He had a clear path, but he wasn't afraid to meander a little. Change it up. Fire his manager.  
I guess I just don't have the confidence to say firmly " I'm going to become this." because I'm scared I won't make it. He wasn't like that. He knew that he could, so he would. That was how it worked according to him. I admired that because it was something I knew I didn't have.

' Oh my god, we have to go talk to him. Wow, you weren't kidding when you said he was hot. I like your style, baby girl. Kinda rugged-looking. About mid-twenties, I guess?' Cake said, interrupting my philosophical inner ranting. She grabbed my hand and started tugging me towards him as he ended the applause, putting his hands easily back on his bass, cradling the neck and cupping one of the 'Blades' of the axe with his other hand. Man, I wanted to be that bass guitar, replacing the neck with my shoulder and the blade with my hip. Because he was frustratingly sexy, in an ' I know I'm attractive' tall and lanky fashion.

' No, Cake! That's so awkward, He might not even remember me.' Cake grinned back at me and flicked her hair ( flicked her _fucking_ hair. Dammit.) a worrying sparkle in her eye. I was going to talk to this guy again if I had to be dragged kicking and screaming. Oh no.  
' It's only awkward if you make it awkward. I'll bet you he remembers everything about you, Fi.' I knew I wasn't going to win this battle, So I instead tried to set up a peace treaty.  
' Look, can we wait until he's finished performing? He's not a ghost, it's not like he'll just disappear.' Cake sighed and pulled me into the crowd behind a small family impatiently.  
' Fine, but you _will_ talk to him, okay?' I pulled my bunny headphones down around my neck, partially so I could hear better and partially because I didn't want him to notice them mid-way through his set if he still remembered me. Because then I'd look like a creepy stalker. Ew.

' Thanks very much everyone. That was just a cover, but the next song belongs entirely to me. Parents, I apologise for any awkward questions that may come up after this.' Gah, his voice sounded even better than how I'd remembered it. I could tell back in the subway just from how he talked that when he sung it would be like sex for your ears. Smooth and deep and slightly.. purr-y is the only way I can think to describe it. But I'd never heard him sing, so believe me, I was paying attention in this moment. He started playing a slow bluesy tune on the bass, no embellishments or detail just hard, steady crunching rhythm. It sounded great.

_' When I first came down_  
_Down to New York city,_  
_I met this white-haired girl_  
_Who was real pretty.'_

Hell, I was right. Total eargasm. Swooping up on the last note till his voice broke in an almost Michael Jackson-esque manner in the first and third lines, with a growly rasp on the second and fourth when he took a breath. I didn't usually listen to blues because after a while it was all just too sad, but I'd listen to this on repeat all day.

'_I thought that I loved her_  
_And for me, she felt the same_  
_But she kept it secret that_  
_she got high and barely knew my name_

_See I don't mess around_  
_With chicks I know are grassin'_  
_But I had no clue until one night_  
_I found myself askin'_

_"Hey Baby girl, have you seen_  
_My little red teddy bear_  
_that my poor old dad left to me_  
_before he disappeared?"_

Wait. His dad disappeared? So I wasn't the only one with a fractured relationship to my parents. At least he'd actually known his father though. I wonder whether he'd managed to find his dad again.

_' And she said, "That old thing?_  
_I sold it to a pawn shop_  
_Scored some sweet pot_  
_You wanna take a swing?"_

_Now, guys and gals, it'd do you good_  
_If you really understand_  
_that little teddy bear was the only thing_  
_I had from my old man_

_I left that white-haired girl_  
_Left her blazing in manhattan_  
_Though I got my teddy back it was still_  
_A shocking thing to have happened_

_Ashley was her name, I tell ya_  
_Approach her if you dare_  
_But I wouldn't fool around with_  
_The girl who smoked my teddy bear.'_

He played a short riff down the blues scale and ended with a cheeky little trill that made the entire audience laugh as they started to clap. I joined in, shaking my head in disbelief. How had he not been signed already? If he could write that kind of stuff, then he would at least be able to get a job as song-writer, and even if he had just played a cover his voice was just.. Wow. Why was he so godamn... There wasn't even word to describe him. Hmph.  
Cake saw my face and nudged my with her elbow, making me grunt slightly in protest. She wiggled her eyebrows at me when I looked at her and I rolled my eyes and bumped her with my hip. I couldn't help but blush slightly. I'd already told her that he was hot.  
' I _really_ like your style, Fionna. That boy can sing. I wouldn't mind waking up with that whispering sweet nothings in my ear.'  
' Oi, you have a boyfriend. Hands off.' I said, a little more possessively than I had intended to. I didn't even know his name, but I wasn't gonna let Cake with her perfect hair and full mouth break on in there and make him forget all about me, if he hadn't already. Cake held her hands up in surrender, giggling to herself as everyone stopped clapping. The crowd had grown slightly larger while he was playing. If everybody payed up, he was gonna make some good cash.  
' Oh, I'm not gonna move in on your man, Babycakes.'  
'Shut up, he's not my man.' I muttered, blushing again. I was so terrible when it came to heart-guts feelings and stuff. Boys who liked me _like that_, even if I didn't like them back, made me nervous. When it was just friendly, I was alright, but if they got interested I turned into an anxiety pressure cooker because I didn't want to let them down.  
' Might as well be.' Cake said, managing to get in the last word. I threw her a dirty look as my subway rocker started talking again.


	6. Chapter 6- When Will I See You Again?

As the last of the train whistled out of sight down the tunnel I slumped back down onto the bench, kicking once at my guitar case in annoyance. I'd lost her. Fuck.  
She was taking the subway down into Brooklyn, though there was no guarantee that that was where she actually lived. I had no clue where she lived. I had nothing to go on but her face. Not even a first name. I quickly cycled through some other F and V names in my head, rejecting each one in turn. None of them fit her, none of them fit the girl with bunny headphones. She would have a name that described who she was, it wouldn't be that unusual or special but it would just fit her perfectly.  
If she did live in Brooklyn and she was studying at LIU, I wonder what she'd been doing up here. Twenty First was past the campus. Maybe she came up here every Saturday to do something, I don't know. If she did, I might be able to catch her again, but I knew that was a long shot at best. Chance were I'd never see her again. New York is a big city, and I could be looking for months and never even spot a single rabbit ear.  
I suppose her individuality was to my advantage though. Little Miss innocent, sitting at the train stop, two-tone denim frock, listening to alt-rock.  
Hey, that rhymed.

I grabbed a sheet of paper and started scribbling down the words that flew into my head, no melody fitting them yet but a definite rhythm showing itself. The lyrics were coming naturally and easily as I thought about her, her curly blonde hair and gold-pierced rabbit ears and soft red lips and leather jacket. She was definitely my muse, and I just had to find her again.  
I could do a musical head-hunt. Get back into busking and play this song to everyone around Brooklyn, ask them if they'd seen her. If they knew the twenty-one year old with the bunny ears pierced with gold. Rhyme!  
I'll start with Brooklyn because even if she doesn't live there, that's where she was headed and if she studied at LIU, chances were she would've at least wandered around the borough a little.  
But even if I did all this, even if I tapped people shoulders and asked if they know her (wrote that down) I might not even find her. I should be focusing on my career, not looking for a girl I seemed to be bloody obsessed with after only talking to her for ten minutes. But I wanted to so badly. Gah, It was so unfair, I know she's out there (wrote that down too.)

My train came when I was half-way through rearranging everything I had barfed onto the page, so I stuffed the papers back into their pocket and picked up the case and got on, managing to bag an empty seat before they were all taken. Once we had started moving, I pulled out the paper again and looked at the mess of graphite and desperation. I was such a hopeless case. Far too impulsive. When I want something, I have to have it, no way of compensating me. And I wanted to see her again. So I was gonna see her again, or at least I was gonna try my best.  
I flipped the sheet of paper over and started drawing on the back. It wasn't until I found myself wishing for an eraser as I looked at the curve of her jaw that I realised I'd drawn my mystery bunny. It wasn't perfect. It needed a little tweaking here and there, in the shape of her face, the fall of her hair and a little with her nose. But I'd gotten the eyes right, the curious slant in her eyebrows, and her mouth perfect, unsurprisingly. After all, I'd been staring at it for a good five minutes while she talked to me.  
I could fix up the drawing once I got home, and then stick it on my Facebook page along with the finished song. Get the word out that I was looking for this girl. The more people I could get to follow me from hearing me play on the streets, the more likely it was that eventually someone would either know her or see her and then they could put us in touch.  
I hope she'd find the whole thing romantic instead of creepy as fuck. I just wanted to see her again.  
I flipped the paper back over and started drawing arrows indicating where each bit of song should go. The chorus was alright, but I needed a tag line. Something that told people how little I knew about her, but gave them a place to start. Because right now, all I knew was that tonight she was somewhere in Brooklyn, and I was heading in the opposite direction.  
That was it. Somewhere in Brooklyn.  
As I considered this in my head the melody for the chorus suddenly popped up. I hummed under my breath as I wrote it down, slightly surprised. That was a lot softer than my usual stuff. But then she was unusual, so maybe that's exactly what she deserved.  
This would need some back up. Just a bass wouldn't cut this tune. I can play keyboard as well as guitar, but keyboards are awkward to take busking. And the battery always runs out so quickly. I could record something in my home studio ( Before Marcy got her claws into me, I recorded my stuff at my flat and stuck it on my Facebook page. The sound quality is decent.) and then just lug along some speakers and my iPod. Nothing was gonna stop me now, I had a goal and I'd be damned if I didn't get to see those pretty red lips curve up into a smile for me again.  
I'm coming to find you, Bunny. You just wait.

**Author's note: Okay, so I know these last two chapters have been pretty short, and I apologise, but to make up for it the last two are both pretty friggin' long. So I'll be posting those two up one at a time instead of two at a time like I've been doing with the rest. You guys are just gonna love the ending, I know you will XD**


	7. Chapter 7- Bunny From The Picture

' Hey, welcome to all for you who turned up in the middle of my last one. That's called " The Girl Who Smoked My Teddy Bear" - For the life of me, I don't know why I called it that- and you can download it from my facebook page, 'Good Girl/Bad Boy.' A couple of people got out their mobile phones and he smiled briefly to himself, before kneeling down beside his base case and plugging an iPod into a set of speakers, after quickly scrolling through the songs. He then picked up a piece of paper before he stood up.  
' So, I've got just one more song before I'm done for today, and it's actually something I need your guys' help with. About a month ago, I met a girl in the subway while I was waiting for a train. But I was too much of a wuss to ask her her name until the last moment, and then I couldn't figure out what she was saying through the glass. I've been looking for her ever since.' A collective appreciative sigh issued from the whole audience, except for Cake, who squealed for a moment before slapping one hand over her mouth and grabbing my arm with the other, and me.  
I was so surprised. Not only had he remembered me, But he... he had been looking for me?  
I had been looking out for him, whenever I went up to Long Island, but I hadn't been actively searching for him because I was just some girl he had met on the subway. I'm not that special, or memorable. Maybe he had met another girl on the subway a month ago. Wouldn't be surprising, a guy like him could probably pick up chicks whenever he wanted.  
But if he was talking about me, as hard as that was to comprehend, that meant he really had wanted to talk to me again. Enough to ask people about me. Enough to write a song about me.  
Fucking hell, I think I'm in love.

He handed the piece of paper to a little boy with blonde hair sticking out of a white hat in the front row, who showed it to what looked like his older brother. He took the paper off of him and studied it for a moment, before passing it to a woman with rainbow-dyed hair standing next to him.  
' Music is more my thing, but that's pretty close to how she looked that night. This last song is a lot sweeter than what I usually play, but it works. And I think she'd like it all the same.' He knelt down and fiddled with the speakers as the paper was handed to me. Cake and I both stared at it for a while.  
That couldn't be me, I'm not that pretty. My hair doesn't cascade like that, my eyes don't looks so sparkly, my mouth- my mouth. Jesus Christ. He had made it look sexier than Cake's, and that was saying something.  
I could see myself in that picture, mostly because the girl happened to be wearing my headphones, but then it was a perfected version of me. That day, My hair had been all frizzy from the rain, I had had to borrow one of Cake's jackets because all my stuff had been dirty like today, I had only had mascara and a little eyeliner on. His version of me looked like what would happen if Brangelina actually had a child instead of adopting.  
Cake let out a low whistle.  
' Wow, he's got it bad. I official hand the title of Man-eater to you, Fionna. The student has bested her teacher.'  
' What? No, I-' I was cut off by the sound of his voice starting his song.  
He... he _liked_ me. He had wanted to see me again. He cared enough about finding me that he had essentially put his career on hold.  
It was a very weird mix of feelings. I felt guilty, electrified, shocked, gleeful. So I forgot about all of that and drowned my thoughts in his voice.  
_  
' She had on bunny ears pierced with gold_  
_Twenty-one years old_  
_I lost her in the cold_  
_It's unfair, she's out there_  
_Somewhere, somewhere, Somewhere in Brooklyn_  
_She's somewhere, somewhere, Somewhere in Brooklyn.'_

The song did have quite a sweet tune that fitted its lyrics almost perfectly. It was hopeful but melancholic, like a wish you knew wouldn't come true. And I did like it. I mean, how could I not? He had written it for me.  
I'm quite used to people just y'know, passing me by. I don't fit in with that many of them, because I've got so many weird little things going on. I'm fine with interacting on a superficial level, but superficial me is kinda boring. She's forgettable, just your average chick.

_'Little Miss Innocent_  
_Sitting at the train stop_  
_Two-tone denim frock_  
_Listening to alt-rock_  
_  
While we were waiting_  
_Started conversatin'_  
_Before I got her name_  
_Along came her train_  
_  
Oh, oh_  
_Next stop Brooklyn_  
_Oh, oh,_  
_Now I'm lookin'_  
_  
She had on bunny ears pierced with gold_  
_Twenty-one years old_  
_I lost her in the cold_  
_It's unfair, she's out there_  
_Somewhere, somewhere, Somewhere in Brooklyn_  
_She's somewhere, somewhere, Somewhere in Brooklyn.'_

When I had opened my mouth to talk to him that day, it was because I saw the guitar case and the cute face and thought he looked like a cool guy. Plus he looked kinda bummed, so maybe talking to someone would've helped him get his mind off things.  
It started off fairly mildly, but then when he talked to me again after he hung up on his manager, for some reason I felt like I could just say whatever and he'd get it. Like he saw my frankly awesome headphones and didn't think they were weird, like he liked my sense of humour (Which even Cake says is a little off. She's known me such a long time that she understands it, but she also tells me that Mauricio can actually find it very hard to tell when I'm just joking.) and most importantly, we had the same taste in music. He had liked what he had glimpsed of me in that ten minutes we had waited together.  
I mean, obviously he did, because he'd been trying to see me again ever since.  
_  
'On the street kicking rocks_  
_tryin' to spot those long blonde locks_  
_Green Point to Flat Bush_  
_Checking every corner shop_  
_  
Tapping people's shoulders_  
_Asking if they know her_  
_Every day's the same_  
_It's back to the train_  
_  
Oh, oh_  
_Next stop Brooklyn_  
_Oh, oh,_  
_I'm still looking-'_

'Hey, sing it with me.' He said, breaking for a second. Everyone in the crowd obliged, starting to sing along to his undeniably catchy tune.  
_  
'-bunny ears pierced with gold_  
_Twenty-one years old_  
_I lost her in the cold_  
_It's unfair, she's out there_  
_Somewhere, somewhere, Somewhere in Brooklyn_  
_She's somewhere, somewhere, Somewhere in Brooklyn.'_

The tune changed slightly, and he stopped playing his bass for a moment, bringing one arm up into the air and making a swaying motion. Everyone in the crowd got it almost immediately, and their arms all went up to move in sync with his. The little boy with blonde hair at the front was scooped up by his big brother, and he giggled delightedly as he waved his little arms around. I noticed his hat had little knitted teddy bear ears. Cute.  
_  
'Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh_  
_I wonder will we ever meet again?'_

The little boy looked straight at me and stared, in the weird way that children tend to do. I flashed him a quick smile before looking back towards my busker.  
' Hey, keep on singing it.' He urged the crowd, immersing them in his music. He sure knew how to get people involved. Everyone here would have this song stuck in their heads for the rest of the day, and they'd be subconsciously trying to spot me. Too bad they wouldn't need to, since Cake would probably shove me right into him as soon as the song had ended.  
_  
'Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh_  
_I wonder will we ever meet again?_

_Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh_  
_I wonder if we'll ever meet again?'_

His voice soared up to a mesmerizing high note, that I wouldn't have believed he would've been able to reach if I had been listening to his blues song earlier, and I realised that I really did want to talk to him again. One of the reasons I had wanted to run, was apart from how badly it would've sucked if he hadn't remembered me, is I wanted to remember him how he had been down in the subway. I didn't want to be let down or disappointed, because I had liked that guy and I didn't want that memory to be dulled by reality. I'm a dreamer, always stuck up in the clouds and the adventures in my head often seem so fluorescent and technicolour compared to the soft pastels of real life. I hadn't been disappointed though. He was even brighter and more colourful than I had thought he could've been.  
And now, after he'd put so much effort in to trying to find me again, I guess I owed it to him not to be a disappointment either. I'd do my best. But I had a feeling he remembered me as way better than I actually was.  
Suddenly, I felt something tugging on the edge of my long cardigan and I looked down to see the little blonde-haired boy staring up at me, a curious expression turning to a delighted grin stretching his chubby cheeks when I looked down at him.  
'Bunny!' he exclaimed, reaching a hand up to me. I smiled at him and took his hand, then looked around for his older brother. Or maybe it was his dad. Though he didn't look old enough to be the little guy's dad.

_'Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh_  
_I hope we do_  
_Somewhere in Brooklyn.'_

Everyone began clapping and there were a few whoops throughout the crowd as the song ended. My guy grinned and raised a hand good-naturedly in acknowledgement of the applause, giving a couple of exaggerated bows. I smiled briefly, then continued my search for the little boy's relative. There were so many people here now. I like crowds, so long as I don't feel like I'm being confined by them. Being a part of a group like that, knowing you belong to something is a nice feeling.  
' Finn? Finn!' The older guy came pushing through the crowd then sighed in relief when he spotted the little boy, walking over and scooping him up into his arms.  
' Sorry about that, miss. He's a little adventurer, likes to wander off.' Finn struggled then pointed at me insistently, leaning out of the older man's arms and swiping for one of my bunny ears which was on display. His hat almost fell off, and he pushed it back up indignantly.  
' Jake, look! Bunny!' The older guy, who was evidently Jake, laughed and reasserted his hold on the little boy, who pouted and wriggled.  
' Yeah, Finn. Bunny.' He acquiesced, turning away from me. Finn looked at me over his shoulder and yelled, drumming on Jake's back. I realised what was about to happen and tried to shush the little boy, but he would not be silenced.  
' Jake, Bunny from the picture! Look!' Jake shifted him and glanced at me, beginning to tell the little boy off before he suddenly stopped and stared at me, looking me up and down.

' Jake? 당신은 발견 했는가 Finn?' The woman who had been standing next to Jake earlier appeared, holding the piece of paper with the drawing of me in her hand. She spoke to him in an asian language that I didn't recognise, but he appeared to understand perfectly.  
' Lady, look.' Jake gestured from the drawing to me. I had no clue what I should do in that moment, so I awkwardly stood there, turning pink as they compared me to the girl in the drawing. The rainbow-haired woman clasped one hand over her mouth.  
' It's her.' She said, and Jake nodded, finally putting Finn down as the little boy was becoming highly displeased with his state of imprisonment. A couple of other people had heard her exclamation and a buzz of low conversation spread through the crowd as they all started discussing whether I was indeed the girl. I wanted to go and hide. I don't like attention, it freaks me out. I like being part of the crowd, not the focus of it.

Finn walked over to me then grabbed my hand, tugging on it. I stumbled forward slightly, wanting to go but not wanting to when there were still so many people around.  
' Come on, Bunny.' He said impatiently when he met with my resistance. The crowd started to help him along parting in front of him and I heard people whispering phrases like ' How lucky.' And ' Oh, this is like a movie!' As they shunted me through them until I was spat out into the small space in front of my mystery guy. I froze like a deer (or should that be rabbit?) caught in the headlights, but he had his back to me, kneeling down beside his guitar case as he wound up the cord for his speakers. Finn let go of my hand and walked right up behind him, grabbing the hem of his T-shirt and pulling on it. He twisted around and smiled at the little boy, apparently not noticing me yet. I was too busy reasoning with my fight or flight reflex to notice the crowd behind me drawing back, and Cake told me later that there were even some guys filming. Really, people?

' Hey, little man. Where's your parents?' He said, ruffling the boy's blonde hair. Finn stabbed a finger at me. My indie rocker followed the gesture, looking at me uncomprehendingly for a moment before his eyes- under the fluorescent lights in the subway, I had thought they were pretty much black, but in daylight I could see they were an almost reddish brown colour- widened as he recognised me. I had no time left, no other options. He had seen me. Oh god, what do I do?  
' Bunny.' Finn proclaimed proudly.

**Author's note: I got all the main characters up in here like what! *pulls some sort of gangsta hand sign, fails miserably*****A****nyway, I was thinking of doing a couple of sequels for this AU based around different songs and involving all of the other characters that haven't appeared or have only been mentioned in this one. You guys up for that?**  
**Next chapter is from Marshall's point of view, finally bringing him into the present. What do you guys reckon he'll do?**


	8. Chapter 8- A Romantic Reunion Or Not

**Guest review-  
Yoooooooo: Well, I'm glad ya think so. He is rather adorable :3  
Questionable: Oh god, we got a man down! medic! Don't die on me man! I'm glad you like it so much, and now you've got your fix, eh?  
MoonlightS****tar777: Yeah, I always get pissy with my laptop when it does that -_- everyone watching is just like amgash, I'm an extra in a rom****com but it's IRL!1!11!  
Anyways, now we're back to Mar-mar. Enjoy!**

I couldn't believe it. Standing right there in front of me, looking like she was about to die of embarrassment, was my Bunny. No leather jacket, but she was wearing denim shorts and she had the same socks and bag and yes, slung around her neck was her bunny headphones. I knew it, I knew those were her thing! She was staring at me with an expression lodged somewhere between mortification, shyness and apprehension. Her cheeks were flushed bright red, and I don't think she had blinked those wide blue eyes since I had looked at her.  
I could sense how awkward this was getting for her, but I was still just surprised that she was here. I had always thought that maybe someone would put us in touch over like, facebook or email, something along those lines. And then I could've met up with her at a bar maybe. I had never thought she'd show up while I was busking, and I had never thought she'd hear the song I wrote about her. Because that made me look like a cheesy romantic little sook, which I am not. It just so happens that music was my chosen media for looking for her, because it's the one I'm best at.

Oh hell, what do I say to her now? Everyone was watching us, expecting probably a Hollywood-esque romantic reunion. Maybe they thought I'd sweep her up into my arms and kiss her, while she tearfully told me that she thought she never see me again.  
Eugh. See, I'm so not a romantic. But I should say something to her first. But what? I was drawing a completely blank. I could tell she hated all the people watching her, so maybe I could deal with the crowd first then try and sort out how to make this not awkward. If that was at all possible.  
I rolled my eyes at the numerous lenses of phones I saw when I finally teared my eyes off of Bunny and looked up at the crowd.  
' Look, as the smarter of you may have remembered, I still don't know her name. But this-' I looked at her and gave her a tentative half-smile. I could still barely believe I was getting to say this. ' -This is her. I don't know how she found me, and honestly I don't really care.' A collective cutesy sigh issued from the crowd, and I honestly had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes again. I had said that more for her than them, and now I just wanted them all to fuck off. Stop being stalkers and living out your childhood fantasies vicariously through the little rom-com you think you're catching on your iPhones.

' However, it's awkward enough trying to convince her I'm not a desperate creep without having twenty people watching me. So If you liked my music, you can look up my facebook, Good Girl/Bad Boy, or look up me, Marshall-lee Abadeer.' I raised my hand in a very obvious farewell (or dismissal, if you're picky) and a couple of people pouted and grumbled and sighed because they obviously had nothing more exciting in their lives than watching a struggling musician try to pick up chicks. Or more particularly, one chick with ridiculously long curly blonde hair and soft, tempting, lush red lips that were curved upwards in a small grateful smile that I had been literally waiting a month to see. I swear to god, I had dreamed about her lips. In more... interesting situations than I would care to admit.  
Eventually the crowd filtered away, and I saw her looking around for someone.  
So she hadn't come alone.  
Oh god, what if she had a boyfriend? Please no. That would suck so bad, and I'd look like a complete idiot. Because clearly she knew that I was into her- Seriously, how could she not, she would've heard the whole thing and seen my amateurish drawing of her- and if she had a boyfriend it would look and feel and probably be so pathetic. The whole puppy dog thing was so not me, I don't do that. Fucking why hadn't I considered this before?  
Then I saw her looking towards a curvy black woman with a leopard-print dyed into her hair shuffling away with the rest of the slowly disbanding group. The other woman grinned at Bunny and flailed her arms wildly, before pointing enthusiastically at her phone and running off down the street. Huge mental sigh of relief, she was just with a friend. Or girlfriend, even more awkward. But let's not jump to conclusions, for now I'll assume that she's both straight and single.

Bunny made a small frustrated noise then whipped back around to look at me, seeming to suddenly remember that I was here. She was shorter than I thought she had been, sitting with her at the train stop. The top of her head barely came up to my cheek. Small but perfectly formed.  
Okay, again I was faced with the prospect of what to say to her. I had not really thought this far, because I hadn't thought the first thing I said to her if we reconnected would be face to face. Thought I'd have a little time to plan my line. But I had none.  
'.. Hey, Bunny.' I said eventually when she had worked up enough courage to meet my eyes again. It was fairly neutral, a little flirty and the best I could do on the spot. Not the smoothest pick up in history, but I'm not exactly Casanova. More like his little known younger brother.  
' Hi.' she muttered shyly after a moment, appearing to lose her nerve again and looking at her feet, before she clicked her fingers and held up one in a cautioning gesture.  
' And before I say anything else, it's Fionna. My name is Fionna.'  
_Fionna._  
' Fionna. Fi-Oh-Na.' I said out loud, tasting the feel of the letters. They rolled off of my tongue easily and I looked her up in down, saying it over and over again in as many different contexts in my head. Seeing if it fit.  
_' Oh, hey Fionna.'_  
_' Fionna, I know you're gonna say yes so let's just go.'_  
_' Hey uh, have you seen Fionna?'_  
_' Fionna, I'm gonna kiss you. So deal with it.'_  
Yeah, it fit her all right. Little curly blonde red-lipped Fionna. Bunny Fionna.

I suddenly felt a strange sense of deja vu. I was sure I'd called her that before, maybe said that to her before, but I couldn't remember. She'd liked my bat drawing, then I'd gotten rid of Marcy, asked her about her song- Scotty doesn't know- then..  
I smacked my forehead, scowling at my own stupidity.  
' So that's why you pointed at your iPod. Scotty doesn't know. Jesus, if I wasn't so clueless I probably could've found you without having to get some many other people involved and looking like a creepy stalker.' She laughed, and I bit the inside of my cheeks. God, I remembered that infectious laugh. Low and bouncy and ringing. If you could see laughter, hers would've been coffee-coloured bubbles.  
' Creepy? No way, man. I'm flattered. Like actually, That was really sweet of you.' She said, and I noticed the pink flush return to her cheek and the curve of her lips became a little bashful. She was frigging adorable. I just wanted her to crack one of her little one-liners again, and then my life would be complete. Well actually, my life would be complete once I'd gotten her up to bed, but that probably wouldn't happen for a while and I should not even be thinking about that. Yet.  
' Well, sweet isn't my favourite adjective when someone's describing me, but I'll take it.' She laughed once and I jerked my eyebrows up and down quickly twice, smiling at her. Then her phone started ringing and she glanced habitually towards her pocket before looking up at me apologetically, big blue eyes wide.  
' Sorry, I just-'  
' Nah, go ahead. I ain't going anywhere, I've been trying to get here for a month.' She flashed me a shy smile then pulled her phone out of her pocket, turning away from me. Her cardigan was so long, it pretty much covered the hem of her shorts, and from the back it almost looked like she wasn't wearing anything underneath it. Just yellow wool then about a mile and a half of legs. Leggy bunny.  
I started to finish packing up my stuff, surreptitiously listening in on her conversation. I wasn't exactly trying to, I just happened to be close enough to overhear. And though I was only hearing half of it, I could guess from the tone of her voice that whoever was on the other end was being a bit of a cheeky bastard.  
' It was not, it was embarrassing! You know I hate attention-... What? Cake, what the hell of course not!... Ugh shut up, I'm not you okay?... Oh ha-de-ha, I'm splitting my sides. No, I won't change my mind. No. NO. Maybe...Yes, I did. Build a bridge then jump off it into a lake... Well, you're making no sense either... I already told you, no!... Well, maybe. Maybe! Look, hang the fuck up, I was kind of in the middle of something... God, NO. Not like that. You suck so much, you know that? Yeah. Yeah, whatever. You're an ass. Of course I still love you, dummy. Yeah, of course. Bye.'

She hung up the phone then made such an exaggerated frustrated expression, giving the screen the middle finger, that I burst out laughing. She looked up as I quickly tried to turn it into a coughing fit, but she saw through it and joined in with me sheepishly.  
' Sorry that um- That was my friend, she's quite uh.. excited that I found you again, because I was looking so hard.' There was the one-liner. That not-quite-sure-if-it-is-in-fact-sarcasm. I had never heard anything like it from anyone else. She was so unique. Unclassifiable. One of a kind. One of_ my_ kind.  
' Oh yeah? What was she insinuating that you so vehemently denied?'  
' Did you major in literature? Who uses words like 'vehemently' in normal conversation?'  
' Song writers do. And is your secondary dodging questions?' She opened her mouth but failed to find a witty retort and I shook my head at her, lifting up my guitar case along with my leather jacket. It was pretty warm out, so I didn't exactly need it despite the fact it was almost sunset.  
' So wait, you actually told somebody about meeting me? I wasn't just some random guy?' She flushed and shrugged, sticking her hands deep into her cardigan pockets.  
' Well, if I wasn't just some girl...' I blushed slightly. Fair point well made.

' Touche. So uh, can I buy you a drink? There's a pretty good little bar about two blocks from here.' A little glint of something passed through her eye, but it wasn't there long enough for me to judge what it was. Happiness? Playfullness? I wasn't sure.  
' I don't know. Can you, Marshall-lee?' she replied coyly, folding her arms and shifting her weight onto one foot. God, she made my name sound so damn sexy. Like, it always did because I'm sexy and therefore so is my name, but because her voice was so lovely and chocolatey it sounded even better.  
And that was how it was gonna work, eh? Two can play at that game. And I always win.  
' Actually, in that case, can I kiss you? 'Cause if it's up to me, then I most certainly can.' I said, cocking one eyebrow at her suggestively. She immediately blushed again, and it was the cutest thing I'd ever seen. I wanted to make her blush as many times as I could. I had been looking for her for so long, and now that she was here, with me and she apparently wanted to be, I just wanted to be something for her. I wanted to know what she was like when she was tipsy. I wanted to know what she looked like when she woke up at six am with her hair all messy. I wanted to know what it felt like for her hand to slap my shoulder when I said something stupid and she was laughing at me. I wanted to know her, and I wanted her to want to know me.  
Jeez, my head is so convoluted and weird sometimes.  
'I um, well... I'll take that drink first, if you don't mind.' She said, still avoiding my eyes. Her nervousness, while very sweet, was a little surprising. She had seemed right in her element flirting with me before. What had changed?  
Oh my god. She was inexperienced. She must be. I might've been the first guy to show any actual interest in her. Aww! Considering I was the one on the underhand of the three-year-age-gap, I had thought that I'd end up being the cute one, which I would hate, but looked like Bunny hadn't been around the block, and even kissing made her just a little anxious. Which if I'm being totally honest, only made her more attractive to me. Stroked my ego a little, which was never a bad thing.  
But we couldn't have her being nervous about kissing me, no sir. That just wouldn't do. Because if I'm being totally honest, that had been the number one thing on my to-do list when we met up again. I wasn't appreciating her mouth only for its looks.  
And everyone knows the best way to confront your worries is head on.  
' Look, I can tell you're not exactly a bonafide seductress, and you don't have to be. But just to put your mind at ease, let me state the facts. I like you- well, all of you that I've seen in the combined fifteen odd minutes we've spent together- and you know that, right?' I saw a spark of happiness pass through her eye and she nodded at me, looking like she was having to bite the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from grinning. Oh, she was so totally into me. I laughed once at her expression.  
' And you like all of me that you've seen, yeah?' I said, raising my eyebrows slightly and turning up one corner of my mouth in a half-smile. She bit her lip, going all shy again and nodded, looking anywhere but at me. Can she just stop being so motherfuckin' adorable for a second so that I can feel normal instead of like a mushy little eighth-grader? I hadn't felt this giddy since I was twelve and I was riding a rollercoaster for the first time.  
I placed my hand on the side of her cheek, cradling the warm curve then leaned down and kissed her gently. She stiffened in surprise for a moment, then her lips relaxed and she took a step closer to me, the fingers of her right hand tentatively resting themselves on my collarbone. I ended it a few seconds later and I couldn't help but flick my tongue out quickly. She tasted like strawberries and chocolate and hazelnut with a hint of coffee. But the flavour disappeared as soon as I'd registered it. I wanted another taste.  
' Trust me, you're gonna get to see more of me, bunny.' She picked up on the subtle innuendo and slapped my chest gently. Wasn't my shoulder but close enough. Tick.  
'So, can I buy you a drink?' I asked her, looking up to see those big blue eyes flecked with grey and navy and rimmed with millions of fine black lashes staring at me.  
' Yes.'  
' But first Fionna, I'm gonna kiss you again. So deal with it.'

**Author's note. The End! Did you guys like it? Like I said, thinking of doing some little sequel thingies, let me know if you'll be interested :3**


End file.
